


1000001-RS-01

by freysan



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Other, hermaphrodite characters, post-war society
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 07:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15990470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freysan/pseuds/freysan
Summary: “Love is the greatest corrupter ever known and has been the number one downfall of mankind since the first creation.” -Sherrilyn Kenyon (Born of Shadows)





	1000001-RS-01

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 138: Mingyu lives in a cramped apartment in post-apocalyptic and dystopian context (Minghao is wandering around).
> 
> That's the prompt but it's not shown in the story. There's nothing here. I'm sorry.

 

Database Profile

Given Name: Kim Mingyu

Identification Number: 0038907-SC-57

Occupation: Researcher, genetics department

Affiliated person/s: None known

Status: Single

 

 

 

 

Wake, eat, work, sleep, rinse repeat. This was Mingyu’s life.

Dull, bored, tired, jaded. This was him. Friendless, lonely, alone.

Until Minghao.

 

 

 

 

When Mingyu first saw him, his first assumption was that he was dead. The initial thought that crossed his mind was “where are the constabularies and why haven’t they cleaned up the body?” Upon closer inspection, he realized that he wasn’t. Not yet anyway, and his curiosity was replaced with pity.

The kid, in Mingyu’s eyes, looked lifeless. He was slumped outside the apartment complex, curling up on himself against the cold. He was clutching what looked like a ragged quilt. Pitiful, Mingyu thought, knowing the flimsy blanket won’t be enough to fight off the dropping temperature. He’d freeze to death overnight. Screw that. Even if he didn’t freeze, if android constabularies find him past curfew hours and view him as a threat, he’d still be in deep trouble.

“Hey,” he said, shaking a thin shoulder lightly in hopes of waking the other up. “You can’t sleep here.”

Eyes fluttered open to glare at him. And oh, what sharp eyes there were. “What?”

“You should go home.”

“Have no home.”

“Oh,” Mingyu frowned. He didn’t expect that. He tilted his head, suddenly confused. “Where did you come from?”

The kid scowled. “None of your business.”

Mingyu stared. Of course it wasn’t his business. Except now that they were talking, he was somehow responsible for him. If he died, Mingyu would be guilty for letting him die. He might be aloof but he wasn’t heartless. “Come with me.”

Sharp eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Come home with me,” he repeated.

“Why should I?”

“Because you cannot sleep here,” he said, trying to explain. “The city is on a shut down from twelve to six. If you stay out in the open, you either get killed. Or you’ll be detained and then get killed anyway.”

“Oh,” the fear that passed through the kid’s features amused Mingyu, much to his own surprise. So was the apprehensive question that followed. “And if I come with you?”

“Then you’ll be safe for the night.”

“And then what? You get to fuck me?”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, his amusement escalating. “Not really but if you want to, why not?”

He almost grinned at the flash of indignation the other showed but he didn’t back down from what seemed like a staring contest that was initiated between them. He didn’t know riling somebody up would be this fun, this was new to him. No wonder his colleagues loved doing it.

“Fine,” the kid spit out after a few seconds of glaring, realizing the honesty of his words and deciding not to take chances with the state’s laws. “But I’ll kill you when you touch me inappropriately.”

“Ok,” Mingyu conceded, still trying to stop the smile that was tugging the end of his lips. He turned and led the way inside the building, knowing the other would follow him.

In the end, he got what he wanted – the kid in his home, sharing his sole bed, gritting out hesitant thanks as he tried pushing himself as close to the wall as possible, away from Mingyu’s grasp. Not that Mingyu was reaching out for him. He wasn’t. And obviously, there was no fucking. But Mingyu was very much fine with that.

For the first time in a long while, there was something different from his monotonous life. The parade of emotions he felt in that short interaction earlier was more than the apathy he long held inside. This stranger could kill him in the dead of the night and he wouldn’t even regret it. Probably.

 

 

Minghao (as he had introduced himself), assimilated in Mingyu’s life with ease. He took over his small apartment as if he had been a permanent fixture there. And in a weird non-verbal arrangement, he became Mingyu’s housekeeper as payment for the food and lodging.

Mingyu, on his part, took it on himself to provide for him, especially when he learned Minghao came from outside. How Minghao was able to enter their closed state was still a mystery to him, considering the tall walls that separated them from the world. But once he was assured Minghao was no threat, he decided to be helpful and hospitable. He was his accountability now.

He taught Minghao the basics of their society. He laid out the most important rules: no loitering around past midnight, no hiding in dark alleyways, no running around, chasing, shouting, or assaulting anybody. The whole city had surveillance and anybody who caused trouble or acted in anyway suspicious would be killed (or detained and be killed). No questions asked. And while they have never heard of non-citizens inside the state, Mingyu felt the security won’t take notice as long as Minghao won’t cause any trouble. They just had to be careful. His access to the city would be limited and he had no choice but to depend on Mingyu for food and accommodation.

Minghao initially took it with grain of salt, not completely believing yet not daring to test any boundaries. Limited freedom, he muttered, neutrally compliant.

They were well within a month of cohabiting when Minghao finally asked him why he decided to take him in.

“Because you looked miserable that night,” Mingyu chuckled, “and I guess I need a companion.”

“You need a pet,” Minghao retorted without heat, lying beside him but never deliberately touching.

“Companion,” he insisted. “Are you complaining now?”

“No. But you should have gotten a real pet. At least they won’t run away.”

In retrospect, it should have been his clue. But at that time, Mingyu was too exhausted to muse over the declaration. He simply hummed in thoughtless agreement before letting sleep get a hold of him.

A week later, Minghao was gone. He was there before Mingyu slept but nowhere in sight when he woke up. No trace was left behind.

No, that was a lie. He left a jarring sense of emptiness in Mingyu’s existence.

Looking back, Mingyu realized he couldn’t blame Minghao for leaving. It felt like he was detaining him somehow. He couldn’t bring him to work, couldn’t introduce him to other people, couldn’t take him anywhere properly in fear of the system getting a hold of him. He let him wander around the city aimlessly but how could that be fun when he couldn’t have access to anything? Especially not money?

The stark barcode on Mingyu’s wrist reminded him that he kept all the currency for himself and couldn’t physically share it with anybody. Their system didn’t allow that anymore. One needed to be their citizen and get that mark on their skin to be able to access every benefit of the state.

And Minghao wasn’t their citizen. Minghao wasn’t his.

 

 

 

And yet he returned. Two months later. Greeting Mingyu as if he had never been gone.

“You…” Mingyu said with narrowed eyes yet standing beside the door to let him in.

Mingyu was annoyed at being disturbed so early in the morning but he did nothing as the other plopped down his couch comfortably as if he had never been gone.

“I bring peace offerings,” Minghao grinned, rummaging in his backpack (or Mingyu’s backpack that he had stolen). He took out a figurine of miniature human. “Got it from a wandering merchant.”

Minghao threw it at him, catching Mingyu off-guard. He nearly missed but managed to save it before it hit the ground. And damn it was heavy. His scowl deepened. “Where have you been?”

“Nowhere in particular,” Minghao shrugged. It was flippant but Mingyu knew him enough to know it was exaggerated. There was a touch of hesitance under it, uncertainty mingling with hope that he won’t be mad enough to throw him out. For that alone, Mingyu’s annoyance lessened.

“Ok,” he conceded, putting the figurine on the sole shelf in the room.

“You’re not angry,” Minghao’s voice held disbelief and caution. “Why aren’t you angry?”

“Why should I be?” he asked back, leaning on the shelf as he looked back at him. He didn’t have a hold on Minghao, he learned that well the first time around. He wasn’t entitled to be angry. “It would be nice if I could understand why you left, though.”

Minghao’s answer was silence, eyes not meeting Mingyu’s stare. Mingyu sighed, he had no time for this.

“Fine. Could you just… maybe fix a breakfast?” he said deciding to go back to his personal daily routine instead.

He moved across the room to get clothes from his cabinet before heading to bath. The benefit of living in studio apartment was that he could reach everything easily, the whole of it in open except the perpetually closed bathroom. Cramped but efficient.

The cold shower he took cleared his mind and whatever notion he had that it was all just a dream disappeared. He was awake and Minghao was definitely there with him. Still, he didn’t know how to feel about the other’s sudden disappearance and the secrecy. He felt he should insist on details but at the same time, he felt he wasn’t in the position to ask. Maybe it was safer not to probe for now, he decided, being so used to the passive acceptance he had lived with for years.

Minghao was preparing the breakfast he requested when he came out of the bath. His smile was shy and hesitant and the silence was stifling until Mingyu gave him a reassuring grin. Only then did everything settled into a more comfortable atmosphere.

Mingyu knew it wasn’t perfect and he didn’t know what to do but Minghao’s presence in the usually empty apartment made a difference somehow. Things weren’t so dull anymore. He wanted it to last but now he knew not to get attached. He just wished Minghao won’t disappear too soon.

 

 

He didn’t. He stayed longer than Mingyu expected. And this time, when he decided to leave again, he let Mingyu know.

“What even is out there?” he asked, hands across his chest as he leaned on the wall. He was watching Minghao as he sat on the floor, packing his meager stuffs.

“Lots of things? Different people, different cultures, different societies. The world is huge and so diverse,” Minghao said, but the smile playing on his lips weren’t really as fond as his words. It was sadder in a sense and it made Mingyu even more confused.

“If I say I’d want to join you, would you let me?”

“Why would you even do that? You have everything here. Life, luxury, food, shelter. Safety.”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow. “What is life without freedom?”

“What is freedom if you’re running for your life?” Minghao countered.

Both of them paused at the words. Mingyu’s confusion turned into concern as Minghao’s apprehension increased.

“Is that what you’re doing? Running for your life?” he asked cautiously. “Don’t you feel safe here?”

“I don’t know” Minghao sighed. “I don’t think I’m safe anywhere. A lifetime of fear and paranoia sticks with you.”

“But why? Why do you think you aren’t safe?”

“Because I’m different,” Minghao shrugged, smiling bitterly. “I’m not normal.”

Mingyu gave him a questioning stare, silently asking him to elaborate, but he refused to clarify further. He looked away, as he always did when Mingyu tried asking anything about his past, a telltale sign that he’d rather not talk. Until now, Minghao’s history was a blank slate.

“You don’t trust me,” Mingyu said, deadpan.

“I do,” Minghao murmured, “but not enough to tell you everything. If it matters, I feel the safest around you.”

Mingyu weighed his words, staring at him, judging him to be honest enough. He was appeased, pacified for now, and again, he easily gave up the fight. He always did.

“Ok,” he said, offering a reassuring smile.

Minghao for his part, seemed more guilty than comforted. He curled closer to him that night, asking again and again if he was upset. Which he repeatedly denied. Instead, he asked Minghao to come and stay with him again, insisting he was always welcome in his home.

Mingyu didn’t know when Minghao left the next day, but he was awake just enough to know the small kiss rendered on his temple before the other slipped away was real.

 

 

 

Just like everything in his life, both good and bad, Mingyu accepted Minghao’s spontaneity with usual passiveness. He stopped waiting for him while he was gone but learned to enjoy moments when he was with him. He could only be thankful for the little bit of happiness in his dull life instead of being greedy for more. He wouldn’t even question what they were – friends, irregular housemates, owner and wayward pet. Whatever. Labels stopped mattering to him as long as Minghao continued gracing him with his presence.

 

 

 

Labels didn’t matter and crossing bridges were a blur. But the increasing levels intimacy were inevitable and yet… Mingyu couldn’t say he was prepared when he first bedded Minghao.

Minghao just came back from yet another one of his excursions, bringing another gift for him. This time, a web made of threads with decorative beads and feathers. Dream-catcher, it was called, acquired from somewhere further in the western world.

It was part of their custom now, Mingyu gifting Minghao with random stuffs, mostly trinkets and decorative items, in exchange for the souvenirs he got whenever he came by. He knew Minghao used it to trade with other items from other places. It was fascinating to a certain extent, being part of Minghao’s life this way. His previously bare shelf was now filled with different stuffs, a testament to it. He had pictures in frames, porcelains, figurines, even books he couldn’t read but displayed anyway.

Right now, he was watching Minghao trying to hang the ornament on the wall above his bed.

And the heat that pooled in his belly gathered so quickly, it blindsided him.

Given, Minghao was good-looking (very good-looking), but Mingyu didn’t exactly jump everybody who looked good. Sleeping beside each other for so long had also tamper down whatever attraction he might have had, or so he thought. But something in the way Minghao stretched his body, how he looked in Mingyu’s shirt, smelling like Mingyu’s soap after his bath earlier, the accumulation of these factors plus the elation of having him back again resulted in a sudden but intense feeling of want. The huge, questioning eyes that looked at him when he approached didn’t help and the only indication Mingyu could give the other male of his inner turmoil was the kiss he unceremoniously gave him.

Minghao froze for a moment and Mingyu thought he would be pushed away, but a few seconds more and Minghao was grasping at his shirt and pulling him closer, lips trembling in what Mingyu assumed to be inexperience. He took it as an invitation to lead the kiss, wrapping his arms on the small of Minghao’s back and inviting him to open his mouth for him with a lick of his tongue. Minghao followed his silent instructions. He learned quickly.

And that night, Mingyu learned what Minghao meant when he said he was different, as he had Minghao on his bed, naked and stroked into full hardness. He was littering kisses on his jaw, neck, collarbones. Nobody’s going anywhere anytime soon and he was relishing the moment, taking his sweet time. He reached further between Minghao’s legs to find the entrance he was more familiar with but found a different one instead. An opening dripping with wetness he knew he shouldn’t find in a male’s anatomy. Mingyu lifted himself slightly to look down at Minghao in surprise, only to find him lost in pleasure. The flush on his face was pretty, eyes closed tightly while lips opened in quivering breathes. Ah, perhaps now was not the time to ask or say anything. He let out an amused puff of breath, eyes warming in fondness. He rendered another kiss on the other’s forehead and let his lips linger there even as he gently stroked between the folds, teasing and warning just enough before dipping a finger inside.

Minghao gasped, awakening from his trance. He started pushing Mingyu off but eventually calmed down when Mingyu started rendering more kisses on his face.

“Shhh, I got you. I’ll take care of you,” Mingyu promised and Minghao gave in, gave his full consent, becoming more pliant beneath him.

Mingyu felt skinny arms encircling his back to pull him closer. Lean legs opened further to let his fingers slide deeper. And when he felt teeth grazing his shoulder, he couldn’t help but groan.

But he made good of his promise. He made Minghao come thrice that night.

 

 

But here’s the point, Mingyu’s discovery was far from trivial. It was something of great importance.

As far as he was concerned, Minghao’s kind was already lost, attacked by bandits in the wilderness of what used to be China (now just a vast land for many separate independent societies). Those that weren’t killed in the ambush were captured. They were sold to richer countries to be studied for science or be kept to breed slaves.

Such were the price of having the gift of fertility. Not only did Minghao’s kind represent both genders, they were also the last group of people in their part of the world that could bear offspring without manipulating genetics. The rest of them, including Mingyu and the whole state, were left barren by the Great War, their physiology failing to produce any reproductive cells in the body.

And yet these special people who could procreate were the ones desecrated instead of being protected.

Mingyu held Minghao’s sleeping form closer to him, tampering the unfamiliar sense of anger that was making his insides hot. They decided not to talk now but he knew they would later. Mingyu would just have to wait until Minghao was ready to breach the subject.

 

 

And talk they did but in a direction Mingyu didn’t expect. Almost a week of this new routine, of finding mutual pleasure at night and evading the topic the next day, Minghao finally opened up.

“Are you going to sell me?” he asked, refusing to look at Mingyu even as he cuddled closer to his naked form. “Are you going to surrender me to the government?”

The resignation in Minghao’s voice made Mingyu’s chest ache. “No. Of course not.”

“Are you sure? Your system might find me useful. For research or something.”

“Minghao, our system doesn’t have that kind of program. And even if we do, which we don’t, I won’t give you away.”

“How are you sure you don’t have it?”

“Because I work for them,” he said. “I’m part of the genetics research team and I know the extent of our study. We never had any program involving your kind and we don’t have any plans for it.”

“Then how do you maintain your population? Just cloning?”

“Yes. We are improving some things here and there but we are satisfied with the basics. Keeps the population count consistent.”

“Hmm,” Minghao hummed, burying his face on Mingyu’s neck. It made Mingyu smile, wanting to continue the conversation.

“Look here,” he said, lifting his wrist to show the barcode that contained his whole identity and information. “0038907-SC-57. This is my identification number. We only have 1 million frozen cells from the old world and I guess I’m the 38,907th in the registry. SC means I belong to the field of science and 57 because I’m the 57th generation of cell 38,907.”

“That’s weird,” Minghao murmured. He held Mingyu’s wrist and ran his thumb on the mark. “Is there a 0000001 somewhere out there?”

“Yeah. And a 1000000, too,” Mingyu chuckled. “But that’s the last number for now.”

“How about your 56th? Have you met him? Is he also named Mingyu?”

“No I haven’t and he’s probably not. So far I haven’t heard of anybody requesting to raise their own genes. They’re probably scared of dealing with a version of themselves.”

“Can’t argue,” he said, voice becoming sleepier as he continued. “I’d probably hate myself if I get a chance to meet him, much more raise him.”

Mingyu hummed in response, an acknowledgement but not an agreement. He doubt he’d hate himself if he met him in another circumstance. He never considered of himself detestable.

 

 

 

Euphoria. He’s never really known it before Minghao. Satisfaction maybe, enough happiness to make life tolerable. But euphoria? He never knew what it was.

Minghao’s presence made life better, gracing him with something more than his daily dose of ok. And it was amazing despite being sporadic and limited in timeframe. But this newfound intimacy, it was something.

Suddenly everything was magnified. There was more warmth in his heart with every shy touch Minghao gave him. There was a strong sense of delight bubbling on his stomach every time he saw Minghao at ease in his presence, his own home. There was immense pride for himself whenever he made Minghao laugh, delighted that he could make the other happy just as much as the other made him happy. And the sensations that wrap around him when they lay with each other, he couldn’t even begin to describe that. It was utter bliss and Mingyu reveled in it.

But just like everything in his life, it didn’t last long. Nothing ever did, nothing new there.

Only this time, he soared higher and crashed harder.

 

 

 

Mingyu expected Minghao to not change his ways but it still felt unpleasant when he left again.

In the other’s defense, Minghao did ask pleasantly if he could leave and Mingyu gave in just as easily as he always had. But at the back of his mind, in a deeper part of his heart, there were voices telling him that Minghao should stay. That he was Mingyu’s now so he should remain. And try as he might to tamper it down, it was difficult to stop himself from believing that Minghao wasn’t his ownership, not after having him again and again. Surely he was entitled?

Against his questionable judgement, Mingyu started proper research about the rules of their system while Minghao was away. He made inquiries about accepting outsiders in their society and when he was sure he understood, he mentioned it to Minghao the next time he came over.

“I think it’s possible for outsiders to be part of the society,” he said, playing with the food on his plate, the dish Minghao himself prepared. “We can accept refugees as long as it could be proven that they are unthreatening and in dire need of protection.”

“What’s your point?” Minghao asked.

“That maybe you’d like to stay here permanently? Stay and be part of our society? It seems safer than continuously running around.”

“How? By exposing myself to your government? They might take me away.”

“No, they won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I already told you--”

“I’m not taking chances. Not even for you.”

The finality in Minghao’s tone was absolute and Mingyu could do nothing but grit his teeth. The words hurt but so did Minghao’s guarded glare. Mingyu weighed his options. To insist on the topic would be to break Minghao’s trust but to keep silent would be to break his own heart.

The choice was hurtful yet predictable. Mingyu shut his mouth and didn’t bring it up again.

 

 

He didn’t bring it up for a long time. He kept his silence on the matter and watched Minghao come and go. He let the pain and bitterness of being left behind fester in his chest. It felt better whenever Minghao returned, soothed by his kisses, but the ache in his chest never completely left, instead increasing whenever the other left.

And yet despite his silence on the matter, Mingyu’s touches became more possessive. More aggressive. He left marks on Minghao, handprints and hickeys, bruises that remained for days. Sometimes he would break his skin or make him bleed. But Minghao, despite unshed tears in his eyes, never denied him anything. He took it all with trembling body and frail smile. Although there were times when Mingyu wondered if his cries were still that of pleasure or pain.

But he didn’t wonder too much, not when Minghao curled so close to him after.

 

 

 

Things escalated when one of Mingyu’s colleagues, somebody Minghao never met because he wouldn’t let him meet anybody, was cheated on. Cheated on despite living in the same state. Cheated on despite seeing each other almost every day.

He watched his colleague break down, consumed with confusion and sorrow, and Mingyu began thinking of what ifs. What if Minghao was in another person’s bed right now, moaning wantonly under another? What if his bright smiles weren’t only for Mingyu? What if there were others he turned to aside from him? What if? And he wouldn’t know because he couldn’t see him.

Mingyu felt sick with all those thoughts. He felt sicker every day while Minghao was away. By the time he returned, Mingyu was beside himself in jealousy and suspicion.

He was watching as Minghao prepared dinner for them then, a new recipe that he learned somewhere, probably taught by someone else. Now that he thought of it, Minghao did learn a lot when he was out there. When he mentioned it, Minghao simply smiled and said yes, he learned it by working in a diner in a state where outsiders were freer to be seen. He learned it for Mingyu.

But all Mingyu could think about were inappropriate interactions between him and another, whoever they were, touching and laughing together while learning from each other. And in the moment of irrationality, he finally asked him. “Are there others aside from me?”

Minghao’s surprise was brief. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not,” he replied with a chuckle.

But Minghao’s laugh sounded wrong and grating to Mingyu, and without thought, he grabbed his shoulders and made Minghao face him forcefully.

“There are others, aren’t there? Others you turn to for free food and lodging? Others who had you or maybe still having you? There are more aside from me.”

“No!” Minghao said, pushing him away. “There were only other friendly people. I’ve never let anybody else touch me the way I let you!”

He sneered, wanted to keep arguing, but Minghao’s expression, the combination of hurt and disbelief that he’d think that way, with a touch of disgust at the mere thought of somebody else touching him, it made Mingyu stop. No, Minghao would never, Mingyu realized. The dread that he had hurt him, that he let irrational distrust take over, had Mingyu sinking down the chair, burying his face on his hands.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m thinking. It’s just that… when you’re gone, it becomes unbearable. I want to see you always. I want you to stay with me all the time.”

“I want to be with you, Mingyu, but I can’t stay cooped up here all the time,” Minghao said, kneeling next to him, looking up at him in uncertainty.

“You won’t be if you get registered in the system.”

“And expose myself? What if they take me away?”

“They won’t. I promise you.”

“I’m scared,” Minghao’s voice was all but a whisper by now and his admittance felt like a stab in Mingyu’s heart.

But Mingyu wanted this. He wanted Minghao to stay and having him registered in the system would be the only way to do it. It won’t be a problem. The system would allow Minghao in. It would be easy.

“Don’t be scared,” he said with conviction. “I’ll take care of you.”

Minghao’s silence was deafening and Mingyu thought that he’d be rejected yet again. That this time, Minghao would leave and never return. He was readying himself for the heartbreak but Minghao spoke again, softer, still afraid, but with the most affection Mingyu had heard from him. “Would it really make you happy if I stay?”

“Yes,” he quickly replied. “Yes, it would.”

 

 

 

 

Database Profile

Given Name: Seo Myungho

Identification Number: 1000001-RS-01

Occupation: Research subject

Affiliated person/s:

Status: Isolated (for research purposes)

 

 

 

 

Mingyu never thought he’d hate himself. He never considered of himself detestable. Until Minghao.

But there he was, hating himself, hurting as he looked at Minghao through the glass wall. Minghao wouldn’t even look back at him, lost within his own world. All he did was stare at nothing now, slowly fading away while Mingyu could do nothing but watch. But it was his fault, wasn’t it? Blind belief in the system. Obsession to possess. And look where it lead in the end.

The system didn’t have programs for Minghao’s kind because they didn’t have any of his kind. But now that they had one, handed over by Mingyu himself, it only took a little effort to get a hold of him. They gave a few days of false security before grabbing him to be locked up, to be studied and understood as if he was an item and not a human.

Mingyu looked down at the information sheet on his clipboard, Minghao’s database profile. He tried his hardest not to rip it out or ruin it. Being a researcher was a little blessing, at least he could see him often. He could make sure no harm or damage would be done to him.

And it won’t be permanent, this status quo. Mingyu swore he’d change it. He’d get Minghao out of here even if it cost him his job… or even his life. This much and more, he owed him.

He just had to figure out how.

 

 


End file.
